Part 23 (2/2)

Both wishes, he knew, were futile. His wish to be of service to Princess Chienna was not so futile, if he did not let the dream unman him.

It still would not leave him. Random fragments of it would return unbidden, no matter what he was doing. Now he was standing at the princess's door, and he was reliving the moment of the dream when he leaped from the cliff after her falling baby.

He remembered the wind bearing him up, but also blowing him away from the babe. He reached out his arms to grip one tiny foot, but the tentacles of more beasts than all the wizards of the world could keep were also reaching out, clambering from livid swamp and flames the colors of burning rubies and solid rock blacker than a starless night-

”The Princess Chienna bids you enter.”

The voice and accent were a hill woman's, but the words were those of a royal maid of honor. Aybas had fought fear. Now he fought laughter. The princess exacted proper service and obedience so firmly that the idea of refusing never came to anyone's mind.

Anyone's, that is, except the Star Brothers-and Aybas was here tonight in the hope that he could make even the wizards' whims miscarry.

The door swung open on its leather hinges. Rush tapers cast a fitful light but showed the princess seated on her usual stool. She wore Pougoi dress now, even to the leggings and the bird-bone combs thrust into her long black hair. But she sat as if in her father's hall, receiving a guest of state while clad in silk and cloth of gold.

”I would bid you welcome, Lord Aybas, if I thought anyone coming in the service of your master deserved such a greeting.”

”Your Highness, I-” Aybas looked at the serving woman, who made no move to leave.

”I would have her tell you her own story if we had time,” the princess said, ”but, in brief, she is kin to a warrior who died on the night of my arrival. Who died of the miscarrying of the wizards' magic. You may speak freely.”

This command rendered Aybas briefly mute. If it had reached the princess that he was no great friend to the wizards, had it reached other ears as well?

If one could be hanged for stealing a cup of wine, why not steal the whole barrel? Aybas nodded.

”I understand that your son has been wet-nursed by women of this tribe.

Now, by the customs of the lowland, that makes him nurse-brother to the Pougoi. By the customs of the Pougoi, a nurse-brother is next only to a blood-brother in kins.h.i.+p.”

”So I have heard,” the princess said. Aybas was sure that she was hiding ignorance, since few of the lowlanders thought it worth learning much about the mountain tribes. The Border Kingdom might be more peaceful if it was otherwise, Aybas thought.

But ignorant or not, the princess was playing her part well. Aybas judged it time for the next scene of the pageant.

”A nurse-brother of the Pougoi is under Pougoi laws in many ways. Among these laws is one that even the wizards have obeyed since the first days of their star-magic. Man, woman, or child, one of the Pougoi may not be sacrificed unless he gives consent or has committed a great offense.”

”A babe at the breast can consent to nothing!” the princess snapped.

Then she smiled. ”Except perhaps to go to sleep before driving his nurses and mother distracted with his crying.”

Aybas held his peace until he was sure that no more would follow. The princess was silent, but he saw her face grow taut as she struggled to hide her fear for her babe.

Then the struggle to hide fear turned into a struggle of another kind.

Aybas could read her thoughts, almost as if they had been carved out of the air in runes of glowing fire: If I admit that Prince Urras is bound by any laws of the Pougoi, this may cause some to doubt his right to the throne. There are already many who fear the reign of a babe. There will be more if they think he must do the bidding of a louse-ridden, rock-scrabbling mountain tribe. Yet if I call my son one of the Pougoi, the wizards cannot sacrifice him without defying their own laws. Their own folk will draw back from them. And if my son cannot be sacrificed, then the wizards' greatest strength against me is a broken reed!

”Indeed,” Aybas whispered in agreement to the princess's unspoken wisdom. She herself was safe as long as the count intended to wed her.

Her son, heir to the realm, had always been in a different and worse circ.u.mstance.

Without words, Aybas prayed that she would see the way to what must be done.

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